Richard Lee-Van den Daele
experience at Borley

I've probably visited Borley about 4 times in all. I first went in the early-mid 1980s and rendezvoused with my twin brother, Sean, and his merry band of amateur ghost hunters who had travlled up from Brighton where they were then studying. Always being a sensitive soul, with a taste for the finer things in life (!), I had booked myself accommodation at The Bull Hotel (I think it was) in Long Melford.

Sean and his intrepid friends were spending a couple of nights in the Church porch (alas, before gates were erected). I lodged a report of their findings with the Ghost Club later (but, oddly, no longer seem to have a copy myself!). They set up a professional quality tape deck in the porch, having first got the churchwarden's permission to site microphones on the aisle and near the altar. They monitored the recordings, in shifts, via headphones. Among the noises heard were some sibilant whisperings (memorably described by Philip Dickinson as having been "loud enough to hear, but too whispered to be distinct") and the highlight was a loud crash against the inside of the church door which nearly resulted in a doubled laundry bill(!) for Peter Marriott whose turn it was to listen at the 'phones. The rest of the group were at the rear of the church as they were doing their regular rounds of the building to ensure no sightseers were poking around.

I visited uring the day but neither saw nor heard anything of note. I took quite a few pictures and was astonished to come across the original postern gateposts in the garden of one of the bungalows near the rectory site. We photographed them and were offered them for £100. As I had nowhere to put such items, I informed my long time penpal Ivan Banks and he got up there swiftly and transported them back home to Kent. A few coats of creosote later he put them in his garden and still has them.

On later visits I videoed on the rectory site (the Doreys were away and the churchwarden gave us run of the grounds). Needless to say we were stopped by the police as we all left the grounds and she explained that we were bone fide visitors there with her permission. Strange, at home you can go weeks without seeing a policeman, yet in rural Suffolk the place is crawling! We also had permission to climb the church tower. I remember the steps being almost worn away with time and, though I desperately wanted to get a "then & now" comparsion photo looking over the rectory site (like the one in Price's book) for a reason I can no longer recall, our hope was thwarted. Maybe it was sealed off at the top or something but we never did get that picture!

Richard Lee-Van den Daele